There is a natural prejudice which prompts men to despise whomsoever has been their inferior long after he has become their equal.

don’t see that the fields are new and the seasons

They passed out of the shade beneath the eaves and flew into sunglare and silence and it was an action she only partly saw, elusive and mutely beautiful, the birds so sunstruck they were consumed by light, disembodied, turned into something sheer and fleet and scatter-bright.

Any road followed precisely to its end leads precisely nowhere. Climb the mountain just a little bit to test that it’s a mountain. From the top of the mountain, you cannot see the mountain.” —

Written By Frank Herbert

About us

Featured posts

Featured Topics

Quick Links